You drive away from your house...heading straight for the main road...you will stop at the traffic light as it turns red, as any courteous driver would do...though there are some bastards who are honking at you to jump the red light...you feel like giving them a third finger, when they wind down their window shouting at you...but you hold your peace...it ain't any good trying to fight them anyway...there is three of them...and only one of you...
The traffic light turns green after a while...you step on your clutch, and switch to first gear...its a tiring work-out you go through every time you drive this junk...but man, you do love the wide space, and the security you feel about it...there is a U-turn sign ahead...you turn on your indicator...and make your turn...after all, you have got to head the opposite direction...
You travel a small distance, preparing to switch to gear three...followed by gear four...when suddenly you slam your brakes as you see what is ahead of you...seas of car...all honking their blessed souls out...ALMOST not moving at all...damn it, you thought...and looked for an escape route...there is a U-turn sign 50 meters ahead of you...well, it does bring you back to where you have first started...but at least, you will be spared the misery of having to wait the traffic out, while some crack-pots fixes the road at this unholy hour...
You wipe away your sweat from your forehead and neck...crap, you just bathe...barely clocked in 15 minutes in the car...and here you are sweating your pores out...and worse still, you smell like exposed cheese...you try looking for your trustee mp3 player...hoping that it will bring you something to groove to, while you wait almost impatiently...to get to the U-turn...you sit for a while in silence and penetrating heat...only to realize in complete wonder, why your mp3 player isn't playing your favourite Incognito tune yet...you stare at it...and just as your luck would have it, your mp3 player blinks...LOW BATTERY!!!...Shoebox pickle blowfish!!!!!, you shout aloud...It doesn't make any sense, and you know it...but you're trying to control the habit of cussing to much...and though it is a mouthful, it does include many sounds in the usual traditional swear words...and most importantly, it makes you feel a lot better...
After a good 18 minutes, you were able to step on the pedal, make the U-turn and flee...as you are in the opposite direction, you see the whole 3 kilometre jam...and you feel like shouting out...SUCKERS!!..you head for another route...there isn't much time left...your piano lesson starts in half an hour...which you will be able to get there just in time, should you not head for any traffic jams...but it is a Saturday, after all...so we will have to see...
Ah, the alternate route...it is usually a traffic jam there...but it shouldn't be too bad, and all too long...much more bearable than the one you just went through...besides, it....Ludwig Van Beethoven!!!...bumper to bumper, impatient cars honking poli-rhythmically...all recognizable symptoms of time-that-will-be-wasted...*sigh*...the cars from the previous traffic must have been as smart as you...to turn to this route as well...making it quadruple the traffic then it normally would...hey, wait a minute...the balding guy in the car on your north east, does look a bit like the uncle who jogs around my neighbourhood...yikes, a sense of fear creeps in...one you can't understand...nor do you know how do describe it...it feels somewhat like an extreme case of claustrophobia...but can anyone blame you??...here you are, stuck in the car, on your east, west, north, south, north east, north west, south east, south west...cars again...well, if you had the brains to make sure your mp3 player was all charged up and working, it would not have been so bad...but without it, the agony is just unbearable...and to make things worse...both your legs, one to the clutch, the other alternating between the brakes and accelerator...you can't feel your legs no more...
The traffic win hands down this time...you pick up the phone, and send a message to your teacher...you feel a slight 'crappiness' in your guts as you type the message...you hate it, when you have to cancel a class, using traffic jam as an excuse...but when you think about the number of traffic you still have to go through...just to get your teacher's house...you shudder unvolunteerily...the Phoenix Plaza highway jam, the MidValley highway jam, the Petaling Jaya highway jam, and last but not least, the Damansara jam (though the Damansara jam ain't too bad...the traffic lights there are quite generous with their greens, so its tolerable)...
Kuala Lumpur, where half our life is wasted on highways...
(Never underestimate the power of classical composer...when you feel like swearing, try a Gustav Mahler, or even Shostakovich for that matter...these composers' name are so liberating yet foreign, your friends won't be able to tell if you're swearing or not...)